The Final Farewell
by Emuerz
Summary: Sirius is leaving Grimmauld Place forever. Certain people, however, have a problem with this. It's a bit graphic at points, but it's another take of mine on the Black brothers' relationship with each other and their family in general.


_Disclaimer: __I own absolutely nothing that you recognize. It is all the property of the wonderful J.K Rowling. In fact, I really don't even own the plot. I mean J.K mentioned the scene, all I'm doing is elaborating on it I suppose. _

**The Last Farewell**

Downstairs there were mutterings and hushed arguments. Upstairs there was silence. Regulus Black, aged fourteen, was crouched on the old staircase. He was gripping the railing with one hand and his other was hanging uselessly at his side. He strained his ears, attempting to listen to the argument, or discussion, going on between his parents Orion and Walburga Black.

"I will not take his disrespect anymore Orion!" Walburga whispered shrilly. She leaned heavily on the wooden kitchen table, eying her husband carefully.

"And nor will I my dear," the eldest Black snapped. "I agree he's gone too far. _But he's the bloody heir! _I can't very well disown him without bringing shame to the whole family."

"He's shamed us already! Just disown him and Regulus can carry on the line. He's more worthy than that damned brat has _ever_ been," she hissed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was listening.

Orion exhaled loudly through his teeth, running a hand through his trademark sleek, black hair. "I will not disown my son—my heir," he said slowly, his patience wearing thin with every growing second. He turned his head slowly, facing where the stairs were behind the wall. He smirked suddenly. "That doesn't of course mean I won't teach him some respect."

Walburga cocked an eyebrow slightly, but returned her husband's smirk. It was time the child learnt the true meaning of being a Black. "Regulus!" Orion called out sharply. The boy in question, leapt up, and nearly lost his footing on the stairs. "Really now, Regulus. Just come down here. Since you've been listening all along…"

The fourteen year-old second born flushed crimson as he entered the kitchen, keeping his head bowed in embarrassment. His father however, chuckled and waved the boy forward. "No need to be shame-faced. A Black prides himself on being resourceful."

Regulus drew himself up proudly, anticipating another lecture on what it meant to be a 'Black'. Ever since his brother's sorting, his parents—his mother especially—had emphasized what it meant to be a proper Black. Slytherin, Pure-blood pride, proper decorum and etiquette and respect for those 'superior' to you. They were tedious discussions, but the young Black felt he needed to make up for his brother and remembered each with internal pride. "Yes, Father," he murmured with a tiny smirk.

Orion Black eyed his younger son, the one worthy of the title to the Black family name. But as his luck would have it, he'd been cursed with a disobedient, foolish, _Gryffindor_ first-born son. It was a disgrace to the family name, the family views, and the family in general. "Fetch your _brother_ please Regulus," he said, distinctly sneering at the mention of 'brother'. "Perhaps a lesson in discipline will put Sirius's head back on straight," he said thoughtfully to the room in general.

Regulus hid his dismay behind a mask of pure indifference. He nodded quickly and turned, walking quickly out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He turned down the corridor leading to his brother's room, his eyes wide with anticipation. Contrary to what everyone at school believed, he did _not _loathe, hate, or even really dislike his brother. He disliked the _choices _Sirius had made, but not Sirius himself.

And he simply _had _to warn his elder brother about what he was about to receive. Not just a "Sirius, Father is requesting you downstairs," but something more. He had to know what had caused their parents to become so angry. So, despite the anger it would probably evoke, Regulus pushed opened the heir's room without a knock.

"And how can I help whichever snake you are?" snapped a sarcastic voice, deep within the dark room. Regulus swallowed audibly and stepped in.

"Sirius, what did you do?" the young boy asked, his voice almost pleading. He stumbled into the very dimly lit room, making his way over to the large four poster bed where Sirius sat.

Sirius sat up abruptly, it wasn't either of his parents, so he had little reason to be angry, and Regulus, rarely used that voice with him anymore. When they had been younger and he was frightened yes, but now? After 'The Sorting'? It hadn't occurred. "Reg?" he called out softly. "What do you mean what did I do? What's happening?" he asked, using all self-control to keep his voice completely under control.

Regulus leaned on the bed post, his long, pale fingers trembling slightly as he gripped the wood. "Father," he started, swallowing heavily, "he told me to come get you… I heard them talking Sirius!" he spluttered out. "Mum wants to _kick you out_. And Father… well he wants you to learn some _respect_ through _discipline,_" he finished, his voice dropping in volume drastically.

He couldn't meet his brother's eyes. He hated to be the messenger to deliver the news, but he _had_ been listening at the stairs. And if one of their parents had fetched Sirius, well the older boy would have had no warning. _'So I sacrifice my own comfort level… Maybe I _should_ have been a Gryffindor,'_ he thought with no humour whatsoever.

Sirius listened numbly to the news his little brother had just delivered. It wasn't music to his ears—more like a banshee's scream to be exact. He'd almost always been able to hold up a strong face in front of his Father, even during a 'discipline session', but he knew this one wouldn't be easy.

If Regulus spoke the truth about his Mother's increased loathing, he didn't stand a chance. He knew the only reason he hadn't been disowned was because of his Father's firm 'heir' beliefs. He thought he could shove views down Sirius's throat and the boy would believe it. It had never worked.

Sirius looked out the window, his eyes gazing deeply out at the stars and near full moon. _'A few more days Moony…Wish I could be there,'_ he thought before he had time to push the irrelevant thoughts away. His eyes traveled from the bright moon to the stars, they lingered briefly on the Dog Star, but unlike other nights, he didn't dwell.

Shifting his attention back to the room he hated he looked at Regulus, his mind made up. "I'm leaving Reggie," he said softly. "It's the coward's way out, but I can't take it. I don't _want_ to even know what Father has planned," he said bitterly. "If you let me stun you, you won't get in trouble," he continued on, averting his eyes away from his brother's.

Regulus took a sharp intake of breath. "Leave me here? You can't Sirius!" he said, his eyes misting over. "I…I…I can't live here without you…Where would you go?" he babbled.

"I have to go and you bloody well know it!" Sirius snapped before he could help it. His gaze softened, "Sorry… I'll go to James's for now. His parents will let me stay," he said confidently, hoping to Merlin and the almighty's he wouldn't have to eat his words.

With sagging shoulders, the younger Black nodded slowly and sadly. As much as he wanted his brother to stay, he knew it wouldn't be good for either of them. "I—"he stopped, suddenly cut off by the door swinging open.

"Good lord Regulus, I told you to get him, not start up a conversation," Orion Black snapped angrily as he waltzed into the room, his narrowed. "I honestly expected better of you. Not sitting up here like some damned pansy sobbing to this blood-traitor." The eldest Black sneered at both his sons, disgusted in them both at the moment. "You know," he continued thoughtfully, "I wasn't going to make you watch, Regulus. But since you've proved you're nothing but an abominable pansy, another's pain should harden you right up," he said, smiling coldly at the young boy.

Regulus turned slowly so that he was still clenching the wooden post, but so that he was right in front of the bed. "Father please…I was just telling Sirius to come downstairs… I wasn't sobbing," he pleaded, knowing it was fruitless, but needing to try just the same. He really didn't want to watch his brother be humiliated and hurt in more ways than he'd ever imagine.

"Tsk tsk, my boy…" said their Father, shaking his head and in disgrace. "If you're going to make up excuses, _at least_ make them convincing. And no more bloody pleading. It's _demeaning,_" he scoffed.

"I'm leaving," Sirius said, standing abruptly. "Regulus knew nothing about this so you can leave him out of it, but I'm leaving this house forever. Leaving you Father, and Mother—I'm leaving you both for fucking ever," he said his voice regaining its usual confidence as he dove on. "And there's nothing, _nothing,_ you can say or do to change my mind," he whispered harshly as his voice went hoarse.

Orion eyed his heir with mild surprise. He slunk forward, his cold, dark, grey eyes never leaving Sirius's face. "You're leaving Sirius?" he said softly. "Oh, I don't think so," he continued as if it were a perfectly normal conversation. "You see, I didn't give you my permission to leave, and whose word is law in this house? Mine," he finished with a cold smirk. "So you won't be going _any_where."

He glanced out the door, ignoring the look of complete fury on Sirius's face. Just as the boy opened his mouth to speak, Orion turned sharply, his wand flicking out from his sleeve, "Diffindo!" he said loudly, his cutting hex catching the teenager in the stomach.

Sirius's eyes widened as he saw the razor thin beam of light come speeding at him, catching him in the chest. The sheer force of the spell sent him tumbling backwards into his wall. Gasping on the floor, he pulled his hands away from his chest where they'd instinctively gone. Crimson stained his hands, and his sleek, silver silk robes were far from that colour. He panted on the ground, looking up at his father.

There had been pain before and a cutting hex to the arm, or face, but never this strong, and never so close to his heart. Not to mention the crazed loathing the Gryffindor saw in his Father's eyes.

"You _will_ listen to me Sirius," the man snapped, as he advanced on his panting son. "I won't tolerate your damned foolishness anymore. Telling the Snape boy to follow a _werewolf_? Not only is it degrading and pitiful, that boy has more sense than you'll ever have!"

Regulus stood in front of the bed, watching numbly the exchange between father and son. Hating himself for doing it, he began to edge to the slightly ajar door, eyes always focused on his Father's wand.

Before he could react, the same wand that had slashed Sirius moments before turned on him paralysing him in place. "I told you Regulus that you were going to _stay_," he yelled. "A full-body bind will ensure that don't you think?" With a cruel smirk he turned back to the bleeding Sirius.

"Dolora!" Orion muttered as his wife entered the room. He sent his Pain Hex at Sirius with nothing more than a look of sadism. As the recipient let out a howl of pain, Orion turned to his wife. "Do not unbind _him_, the show will teach him not to act like a dirty blood-traitor." Walburga raised an eyebrow neatly, but nodded to her husband none the less. She let him deal with the cursing, beating and such; _she _dealt with verbal punishment.

When the Pain Hex was lifted, Sirius began to cough. A racking cough from the pit of his lungs, he gasped for air. Although the hex had been removed, the effects still lingered in his mind and body. Slowly, his hands found the wall, and he made an attempt to stand up. If his Father was going to kill him, he wasn't going to be sitting down.

"Ready to be a man, _son_?" the eldest Black said, his voice oily. He flicked his wand between his fingers, waiting with earnest, yet sick, patience to see if the sixteen year-old would be able to stand or not.

Sirius, to his credit, made a valiant and very Gryffindor attempt to shimmy up the wall. But it wasn't easy with one hand clutched to his bleeding chest and his head swimming from the burst of pain he'd been administered just moments before. He couldn't even bring himself to look up at the man he hated; his eyes were narrowed and squinted in fierce concentration as he gripped the wall uselessly. Eventually his body gave up and with a strangled howl he tried to stifle, he slid back down with a thump, panting.

A shrill laugh from the woman at the door and a throaty chuckle from the man with his wand raised sent an inward shudder of fury down Sirius's spine. He raised his head, looking up at his father from his crumpled form on the floor. "Fuck you," he ground out, baring his teeth much like his Animagus form.

Ignoring the gasp that had come from behind him from his wife, Orion took a step forward, steadily closing the gap between him and his eldest son with each second and each step. He lowered his wand to his side and waited until he was almost standing on top of the Gryffindor to say anything. He didn't speak first, his actions did. With a sharp motion, he bucked out with his leg and caught the teenager in the ribs with his sleek and polished dress shoe.

Snarling with barely controlled anger, the eldest Black whipped his wand out and without even the whisper of a syllable, he had his son dangling in the air in front of him—the boy squirming with obvious discomfort. "You will never, _never_ utter such words to me again. Do you understand?" he hissed, bringing his hand forward to administer a backhand to the boy's face; jewelled ring and all.

The boy couldn't bite back the gasp that clawed at his throat and it emerged, shattering the brief silence that had occurred. His cheek stung painfully and a trickle of blood slid down from his cheek to his lips where the crimson liquid flowed into his slightly parted mouth. The iron, acidic taste clung to his tongue and he coughed as his father's fist connected with his stomach; his lungs clenching as the fist didn't cease its action—obviously Orion Black was not finished with just one shattering blow.

He continued to drive his knuckles into Sirius's chest, lungs, and ribs until the boy was physically coughing up blood. The dry coughs had turned steadily into raucous hacking noises with the addition of blood. Still suspended in the air, the Gryffindor didn't stand a chance against the man with the wand constantly pointed at him and the fists that never seemed to stop.

And then they did. His father just suddenly stopped; stopped driving his knuckles into the boy's torso; stopped sneering in disdain. The older man's expression changed completely, into a blank mask. He leaned forward, making his face level with the hunched—though still magically suspended—figure of his son. The boy's head was drooped forward, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes nearly lifeless.

The boy's body was battered, bruised and bloody. The cutting hex he'd been 'given' previously was bleeding still from the strain it had been put through. Bruises were starting to form all over the boy's stomach and ribs and heart area. A purple'ish tinge had appeared on the usually tanned skin. His cheek was purple already with a small gash inside the already-formed bruise. Both hands and arms were stained crimson from where he'd held onto his stomach, praying to Merlin that he wouldn't lose all his blood but at the same time, just wishing it to end.

Though thankful for the cease in activity on his father's part, Sirius worried. He felt his chin being lifted and was met with his father's cold, uncaring grey eyes in his face. He mustered up as much defiance as he could and with a heaving breath, spat at the man; blood, bile and saliva.

It was not a wise move to anger the man with the wand. Stepping back in haste, Orion gasped and immediately wiped off the filth with his sleeve, fuming. His lips curled upward and he looked at the boy he'd been forced to call his son without that blank expression he'd worn previously. "I didn't want to resort to this," he uttered with such fury that his wife's eyebrows rose. "_Crucio_," he hissed.

And there was pain. Pain that shattered the spell that had held him suspended in the air as Sirius's back arched and he fell in a heap on the ground, screaming. A fire filled each bone, an acid burned his nerves and his skull was shattered by a blow. He writhed on the hard wood floor of his bedroom, his brother watching with dismay while his parents with twisted glee.

The spell seemed to last for hours as his broken body screamed for it to stop both literally and figuratively. After thirty seconds of the intense pain, Orion lifted the spell and Sirius heaved a dry sob; his throat positively parched from the screaming and gasping for air that didn't seem to want to come. He lay on the floor, curled up into a terrified position. His knees were tucked up into his stomach, his elbows touching them and his hands and arms covering his face. The gash in his stomach, the bruises forming, and the broken ribs didn't even seem to matter so much anymore as he concentrated on dulling the pain of the Unforgivable.

His father walked toward him, his wand outstretched and his eyes kept firmly on the boy's figure. The student couldn't see it, but there was a distinct expression of triumph on the man's face. He cleared his throat as if to tell his son to look up, to show some form of recognition. But the boy did nothing; he lay there, curled up without even a hint of movement.

He was defeated, broken and humiliated. It was exactly what had been Orion's plan, and Sirius was sickened to his bones to know that the man had succeeded and he could not fight it. His body was too battered, and his courage too depleted to even move from his foetal position when he heard two pairs of footsteps leave, a door slam and crumpled heap fall to the floor.

Regulus had stood unmoving throughout the whole awful ordeal and upon his release, felt he too was unable to move. He had never wanted to witness such an occasion, and despite his earlier dismay at his brother leaving, it seemed such a better idea in comparison to their present situation.

He knew, however, that he wouldn't have much time before his father would summon him and he'd be taken away from his brother's side for an undefined period of time. His brother's still position did not inspire hope in the young Slytherin as he edged his way over there.

"Sirius… Siri, come on, you have to get up, you _have_ to," he pleaded, reverting to his childish nickname. He gently shook his brother, pulling away when he heard the firs ragged breath.

"I c-can't, I _can't_ Reggie. Just leave me be, let me go, I can't do this," was the Gryffindor's pained reply, leaving his brother back to his panic.

What could he do? He was a mere fourteen years old, technically ineligible to use magic and terrified of the adults downstairs. He had never been jealous of Sirius's friends, until that moment, when he realised this was far out of his league.

"No!" he whispered fiercely, rolling the sixteen year-old over, and cringing at the pool of blood upon the once-pristine hardwood tiles. "You're not allowed to give in, you're not! _You're _supposed to be the strong one. _You're_ the Gryffindor!" Regulus heaved a sob and stared into his brother's eyes. "Not me, Sirius, not me! Please, oh Merlin, please don't go," he begged, grey eyes watery and panicked. "I… I, we'll get you somewhere, to, to James Potter, I'll get you there, _please_, just don't give up. Okay? Please Siri? You _promised_."

It had been a promise long ago, a childhood agreement, but one that Sirius remembered with distinctive clarity.

"_But Sirius, what if I don't make Slytherin? What'll happen, Siri? You'll still stay with me, right, Siri?"The seven year-old Regulus asked, or rather begged to his nine year-old brother._

"_Don't be silly Reggie! We'll both be there and we'll be the kings. You and me, we'll rule the whole house! Or maybe even the whole school. We'll get Lucius to do all the dirty work, and maybe Cissy can help us rule," was Sirius's confident reply._

"_But what if—"_

"_No what if's! I know we will, it'll be great. And besides little brother, you're stuck with me. Forever, and ever and ever!"_

"_Promise?"_

"_Double-charmed promise, Reg. I won't ever leave you unless you want me to."_

He wouldn't be breaking his promise as Regulus allowed him to leave. His brother was suggesting it even.

But that was to take Sirius away from his contemplative suicidal thoughts. He really wasn't sure if he could do as his brother was pleading. He didn't even know how he was going to get to the Potter's, let alone when he was half-dying.

"The Floo, Sirius… I've got some powder in my trunk, let me get it, and we'll use your fireplace," the younger boy murmured, leaving a fat tear-drop on Sirius's shoulder as he dashed away, his light footsteps barely registering in the Gryffindor's mind.

"Reg, Reg, what about you?" he couldn't help but ask when the boy returned. It was no secret that should Sirius disappear that Regulus would bear the full blame for it.

"Don't, don't worry about me, big brother," he tried, smile quivering. "Let's just g-g-get you out of here."

Half-dragging, half-pulling each other, the boys made it over to the fireplace a few metres away when Regulus sprang up to grab Sirius's trunk, throwing his things in at random into it.

"I can't just leave you," Sirius tried again, regret and guilt pooling up in him as he imagined the fate that would await his brother. While leaving had been a good plan before, the safety and well-being of his brother had not been a question then. Now, however, it was all that mattered.

"Shut up," came the thick reply, stifled sobs behind the words. "You're going to have to stand… what's his address?"

Sirius, although rarely tactful, was not oblivious to obvious pain Regulus was in as he mustered up his best Slytherin mask and pretended to be otherwise. "16 Delaby Lane, Godric's Hollow."

He couldn't do this. He couldn't allow his baby brother, the boy he'd picked up when Bella pushed him down, the boy whose wounds he'd cleaned when Kreacher was forbidden; he was the little boy in all of Sirius's memories.

"Reg, Reggie no," he croaked out. "I'm not going, there's only a month left. I'll stay with you; it'll be you and me. We can ignore them downstairs."

But he saw the anger flash in his brother's eyes before he'd even finished his last word. The fourteen year-old was shaking his head, the motion becoming angrier with each second. "No, it can't," he hissed, bringing his sleeve up to wipe away furious tears. "You just don't get it! It can't be like that. It won't be like that. You can't promise me that, don't say that. I can't deal with anymore broken promises."

"You told _me_ I couldn't give up. What are you doing then?" was Sirius's irritated reply. "I'm not going to leave you here with them!"

"Yes, you are!" shouted Regulus, the tears suddenly falling without reserve. "Just like you left me at Hogwarts, just like you've left me for a few weeks every summer, just like you do at school whenever I want to talk, just like—" he choked out, fury pouring out in one of the few occasions Sirius remembered. Regulus was quiet, he didn't shout.

"It's not like that, you know that," he tried in attempt to soothe his brother, wincing as he moved.

"You were quite ready to leave half an hour ago," the younger boy snarled, closing the trunk with a thud. "Don't lie to me now. Just go, Sirius!"

His trunk was pushed towards him, and Regulus turned away. Sirius flinched unconsciously but couldn't help but allow his own anger to seep up. This was his brother's choice. He had offered, the boy had declined. It was his own fault if things got messy, Sirius couldn't always be cleaning up after him. "Fine," he snapped, heaving himself to his feet and shoving the trunk into the fire. "Fine, be just like the rest of them, I don't care, and don't expect me to," were his finals words to Regulus. With one more gasp he stepped into the fire calling, "16 Delaby Lane, Godric's Hollow!"

* * *

**A/N:** Oh man, this has been in the works for too long. Years actually, hah, I just forgot about it... so you might be able to see where the writing style differs slightly, as I wrote this in about five intervals. Anyway, I may write the scene at the Potters, or when the Blacks find out he's gone. I'm not sure yet, anyway, tell me what you think, please!


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